


Command

by bexacaust



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Flashbacks, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-07-10 07:19:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6972556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bexacaust/pseuds/bexacaust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I paced around- for hours, on [empty]<br/>I jumped at the slightest of [sounds.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Command

The sound of a door sliding open.

Magnus blinked in surprise, seeing Brainstorm leaning over Perceptor, a hand on a red shoulder. He remained quiet, listening.

“Perceptor, I’ve commed Drift, he’ll be here soon, alright?”

A nod.

“Fort Max is already at your hab, he’s checked it thoroughly. No one but you and Drift and him, alright? I swear on my wings.”

A soft sound of gratitude.

“Just wait here, alright? The lights are all on, leave them on as long as you need. Powersupply be damned. Pack up your rifle when you’re ready, you’ll be alright-”

The door hissed again, and Magnus was shoved roughly to the side as Drift breezed past him, shooting a vicious glare before gravitating towards Perceptor. The white mech nodded to Brainstorm, who stepped away. 

Perceptor looked up at Drift, “I-I’m sorry I don’t… I heard him, I heard him laugh, I heard Springer and-”

“Percy, Percy its alright, I’m here. Let’s head out of the lab, alright? Let’s go back to the hab, watch something on the screen, okay? Fort Max will be there, and so will I, you’ll be safe.” Magnus saw the wide-optics of his head scientist when Perceptor turned to him, and looked away immediately.

Brainstorm put himself between them, looking pointedly from Magnus to the side office door for the labs. With an abrupt nod, Magnus moved quickly to free the doorway. Drift let Perceptor stand, and Magnus saw the rifle laying on the counter, perfectly assembled and shining like a new coin. Perceptor reached for it, and Drift laid a hand on Perceptor’s own shaking one.

“Brainstorm will bring it to you, alright? You’re safe, we’ll be safe. I promise.”

“Are you certain, I-”

“I swear on my Greatsword.”, murmured Drift, coaxing Perceptor to walk towards the door. As Perceptor seemed to stumbled forwards away from his weapon, Drift sent a look to Magnus.

A com chirruped.

::If I were in any other state of mind, Magnus… I’d shoot you between the optics for this. You, **AND** that slagheap of a Praxian. And I’d blow the bounty on your brands on the worst company I could find.::

Drift turned away to continue to soothe the anxious scientist, leading him out of the labs into the bright halls.

The door shut.

Brainstorm looked to Magnus, popping his facemask off and shifting his jaw to stretch it. Fangs glinted in the lit lab.

“And what was that about, Brainstorm? Is there an issue with our scientist? I would have expected to be notified IMMEDIATELY in the event of a cri-”

“Stop talking or I will make sure the remainder of your existence is nothing but the purest hell I can imagine.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No sir, that is a promise. A promise I intend to keep after what just happened. I returned to the lab to retrieve my spare datapads to find Perceptor in a panic, frantically pulling his rifle apart and putting it back together; he was running DRILLS, DRILLS while no doubt his HUD was flashing processor overtaxing warnings. Do you know why?”

“Regale me.”

“He was repeating a single phrase, over and over. ‘Gun fondling battle-stat’.”

“Strange.”

“No, it’s not. He heard Overlord’s voice, speaking in his audial and he heard Springer screaming. Why didn’t you tell me he was on GARRUS NINE?!”

“I didn’t think it was necessary, he’s always appeared stable; he did become quieter after the mission, but all of them did. Overlord is a tough enemy but-”

“YOU LET HIM STARE DEATH IN THE FACE AND JUST DECIDED HE WAS FINE BECAUSE HE DIDN’T SCREAM, YOU DAMNABLE IMBECILE?!”

The snarl in Brainstorm’s voice echoed in the lab, ringing like a church bell during an execution, “You just let him MOSY OFF?! ARE YOU DEAF, DUMB, **_AND_** BLIND IN YOUR LITTLE COCOON OF RANK, MAGNUS?!”

“I-I assure you I-”

“Please, spare me the bureaucracy.”, snapped Brainstorm, “I knew Perceptor on Kimia, I know him better than ANYONE on this ship save Drift. ANYONE. And while you were wondering why he was just quiet, he was screaming. He was pleading for someone to be there.THAT is why Perceptor is silent, Magnus. He is deadpan and monotone only when he is at his most worried, his most anxious.”

“Are you saying I neglected care of my own unit?!”

“I am saying you let your unit suffer to avoid responsibility.”

“Prowl required all of them to undergo psychiatric evaluation to ensure-”

“Oh yes, Prowl, the tactician who thinks that MODIFYING A MECH’S PERSONALITY is perfectly acceptable is a fantastic individual to place your trust in, mhm. Great choice.”

“There was nothing in reports to say-”

“Perceptor _lied_ , you idiot.”

Magnus paused.

“Perceptor has never felt WORTHY, don’t you GET IT? Do I have to spell it out in perfectly angled typography on a widescreen to get it into your helm? Perceptor is vehemently afraid of failure and weakness, and panic is considered a sign of weakness to him. I can tell you, on my life and spark, that Perceptor meticulously researched appropriate psychological responses to anything he would be asked and lied through his damned denta to appear in control.”

Magnus swallowed hard.

Brainstorm advanced, wings raising and twitching in the way all fliers had when they wanted nothing more than to tear neck cabling with their bare hands, “If you had just SPOKEN to him. FOR TEN KLIKS. Tell me, after Overlord rampaged this ship, did you look in on him? Do you know what he went through?!”

“I-I-”

“Stop stammering, and ANSWER me. Do you know what he went through, seeing Tripodeca nearly broken to pieces? Seeing his friends and crewmates slaughtered yet again? DRIFT NEARLY DYING?!”

Magnus fell quiet, “…No. No, I don’t.”

“Do you even CARE?!”

“OF COURSE I CARE!”

“PROVE IT TO ME! PROVE IT TO ME, RIGHT NOW, TELL ME SOMETHING THAT WILL MAKE ME BELIEVE YOU, AUTOBOT!”

“First tell me why YOU seem to be so up in arms about your RIVAL.”

“ ** _Because_** he is my rival. Because he and I are equals on this playing field. He is the only one who has kept pace with me, challenged me, made me think. Because there is no conquest nor victory when you are aiming your weapons at an unarmed mech. I want competition, not an EXECUTION.”

Brainstorm sneered, leaning in a way that suggested an imminent attack, “I’m not like all of YOU.”

“So you care because of your EGO.”

“I care because Perceptor deserves so much better than he has received. I care because no one deserves to purge their tanks in fear. No one deserves to have their worst nightmares come back to tear their world apart.”

Magnus looked down, “I… “

“Listen closely to me, Magnus. VERY closely. You WILL order Perceptor to begin seeing Rung, do you understand me? You WILL pay more attention to the crewmates who no longer march the battlefield and you WILL learn from our little aside.”

Brainstorm straightened his posture with the fluidity only a flier could have, “Or else.”

“Or else what, Brainstorm? You’ve said it yourself, you don’t use weapons, only create them.”

“Yes, I create them.”, was the quiet answer, “I create them to be used against very specific targets with maximum efficiency and guaranteed results, remember?”

“…What are you saying, that you’ll tailor make my destruction? Laughable.”

“I never said it was yours.”, said Brainstorm quietly, “A scientist observes. Everything. And Rodimus, under the sass and gregariousness, is a very soft hearted mech. He carries so very much guilt… you do the math.”

“A psychological weapon then.”

“If you’re lucky. Or perhaps just little reminders of his failings, of his mistakes, here and there and everywhere. Visitations to his nightmares, making them as real as Perceptor’s. Sins of the father paid for by the son.”

Magnus’s optics grew wide.

Brainstorm looked to Magnus, “I don’t want things to get to that point. But you let things spiral so far out of control that someone has to take the reins. Taking Perceptor from Kimia resulted in breaking his body- your choice to accept that mission, and yes I know it was a CHOICE… Broke him in a way I’m not sure can be repaired. You STOLE my Perceptor. I will take him back by any means necessary.”

“Decepticon tactics.”

“Funny thing about that phrase…”, chuckled Brainstorm, “Decepticon tactics…”

Magnus narrowed his optics.

“When will you realize we learned them from you all?”

“I will not take these threats lightly.”

“Good. Take them to spark. Paint them inside your processor so you realize what you have done Magnus. I do not take attacks on my brothers in arms lightly, and neither does Deadlock.”

“Drift has assured me he has left that name behind.”

“He has left the name, yes; but not the capacity. We both know this. He loved Perceptor. LOVES him. And now he knows the reason why Perceptor bolts out of recharge at night to be sick, to scream, to shake. Now he knows why Perceptor and Fort Max take such comfort in quiet company on the observation deck.”

Magnus swallowed hard.

“Now he knows the last voice, ringing in Perceptor’s processor and pounding in the idea that he nothing more than a tool.”, said Brainstorm quietly, optics bright and angry, “And so do I. Quid pro quo, Magnus. Break my things, I break yours.”

“Underhanded.”

“Decepticon.”, corrected Brainstorm, “Get out of my lab.”

Magnus took his leave, feeling his dignity twitch from its bedraggled position in his processor. Guilt gnawed at him; he had spent so many cycles worrying and worrying about his unit but Perceptor had been the rock upon which he rebuilt his Wreckers… He hadn’t realized how precarious it had been, nor how thankful he regretfully was the Perceptor was so good at hiding himself.

He traversed the halls, thoughtful. Pondering the idea of checks and balances in a new light…

He found himself before Perceptor’s door, and moved to enter his override code- and stopped.

He withdrew his hand, curled his servos, and knocked three times.

“It is Magnus, may I speak with Perceptor?”

The door hissed open, and Drift stood there, plating ruffled and optics frigid. But, he stepped aside to show Perceptor seated at his desk. Magnus walked to him, nodding a greeting at Fort Max.

“Perceptor.”

“Yes sir.”

Magnus winced at the heavy tone, the monotony in the voice he heard. He reached out a hand, slow and cautious, and placed it upon Perceptor’s shoulder…

“I’m sorry.”

Perceptor jolted like he’d been electrocuted.

“I’m sorry I hadn’t realized the sacrifices you made; and I wanted to thank you.”

Perceptor looked at him.

“I am glad to have you as a mech on my team again, Perceptor.”, said Magnus softly, squeezing Perceptor’s shoulder, “You helped me with the Wreckers, with this ship… With keeping everyone alive.”

Perceptor’s servos gripped the arms of his chair.

“Let me return the favor. You helped us stand, let me help you.”

“I didn’t-”

“You did. You did, and I didn’t realize it at the time. We would not be here without your help.”

Perceptor hung his helm, and sighed a soft, “Thank you, Magnus.”

Another gentle squeeze to the shoulder, “Please, try and get some rest, alright? You’ve faced enough nightmares for a lifetime. Spend the next few cycles with Drift, and Max. Take time for yourself. You’ve deserved it for longer than I have realized.”

“Thank you.”

“May the rest of your evening treat you kindly.”

Drift followed Magnus as he retreated to the door once more, and Magnus turned to him before leaving.

“I will… No, no it needs to be in his hands. Try and convince him to see Rung as soon as possible?”

“I will.”

Magnus was quiet for a klik, “Drift, may I ask you something?”

“I would.”

Magnus looked briefly alarmed.

“If I thought it would help him, if I thought it would help them BOTH… I would destroy everyone here. I would wipe every bad memory from this ship and no one would be any wiser.”, said Drift quietly, “Call it treason, call it a crime, call it what you will. I lived a nightmare for eons. I won’t let the ones I care about suffer.”

“…”

“That is what the Cons were, in the beginning. They were a stop to the pain. They were a home, they were someone to listen when the world cast you aside. Somewhere it went wrong. But in the beginning, that’s all we wanted. It’s all I still want.”

“… I can respect that, Drift.”

“I know.”, was the almost gentle reply, “I know.”

“Take care of him.”

“I will.”

“And… please, if there’s anything I can do…”

“I’ll comm you. I promise. And Magnus? Thank you, for that. I think he needed it. For a long time.”

Magnus nodded. His armor felt heavy, heavier than it ever had to him. Drift patted his forearm, and Magnus took his leave.

The Lost Light sailed on.


End file.
